


boyfriend material

by Schmuzz



Series: just my type [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Peter slowly getting won over by Wade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: Peter realizes he might actually have some interest in Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, aka the mercenary who was very recently a person Peter would be fighting on sight.Well, just because Deadpool is reformed doesn't mean he's boyfriend material, right?5 times where Peter has doubts that the two of them could ever work, and 1 time where... well, who knows?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: just my type [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839097
Comments: 15
Kudos: 128





	1. Fairy Tales

**Author's Note:**

> This is from another 5+1 fic I did where Peter and Wade were not-so-secretly married, and somehow their superhero allies had no clue - a commenter suggested this as another fic idea, and I really liked it! If anyone has any future suggestions for this fic or other spideypool fics, leave a comment and let me know! :)

Peter sat on top of a building a few blocks down from Union Square park. It wasn't the height or the glamour of this particular building that drew him in, but instead its direct view across the street. The Strand. One of the most impressive book shops in the city - he remembered as a kid, Uncle Ben and Aunt May taking him all the way from Queens to the south of Manhattan. Sometimes they had enough to buy him a new book that he would devour voraciously on the subway home, other times it was more of a sightseeing tour where he would peruse and figure out which books were worth borrowing from the library.

Whether he left with anything, though, the books stacked ceiling high, going on for three entire stories, now  _ that  _ was heaven. For a bookworm like him, at least. 

The lights were off at this time of night, all except for a few dim beams that let him see vague outlines of the children's display near the front of the store. He remembered, not long after having gone to his aunt and uncle, still too young to enjoy more of the grown up novels as anything but boring,he had especially enjoyed the fairytales. They were full of battles and monsters and magic, but most of all they tended to be full of sad kids that ended up happy at the end of it, usually without the complicated moral quandaries that plagued real life. It was simple, easy, and typically involved a true love that came in just when the protagonist needed it, and was so amazing that it made them forget about all their troubles, such as being an orphan, as so many fairy tale characters tended to be (and what he had become so recently).

He remembered Aunt May steering him towards other books, perhaps because she suspected part of his desire to sympathize with the main characters. After however many attempts, Uncle Ben had said "now come on, May, if Peter wants to think about his true love then let him! Don't you want him to be somewhat romantic?" Then he shared a wink with Peter and slipped him a dollar to spend on a wooden puzzle he had been eyeing in between skimming the story books. 

It had been a memory tinged in a bit of sadness, once he had grown more comfortable with his aunt and uncle. He had grown older, of course, and they still went to the Strand, and museums and other places where he could learn and explore, but he had soon left fairy tales behind him.

At least, that's what he had assumed. But uncle Ben, as usual, was proven right. Peter had grown up to be a romantic - or at least an unlucky nerd who really wished true love was an option for him. 

He kept thinking he had found it, only to get proven wrong by his own cockiness, or maybe that was just fate. First Gwen, and MJ still wasn't really talking to him because the last time they had broken up, he had started seeing the Black Cat, who also hadn't worked out… and Silver Sable also had allegedly died in the line of action, though Peter had his suspicions about that, and now -

He had been played for a total love struck idiot by none other than Deadpool, of all people.

He hadn't even wanted to befriend the guy, but when he learned that Wade was much more likely to listen to  _ him  _ of all supers when it came to not killing others and trying to behave in a more morally upright way, he had shouldered the burden of seducing Deadpool to the good side, and of course all his best laid plans blew up in his face over the course of the last three days when:

  1. Wade had not only saved Peter but several school children from an attack when Peter was downed, making it one of now multiple cases where Wade displayed solid heroism all on his own;  

  2. He had slowly confessed some of his past history to Peter, tentatively admitting that he did have some serious problems that would probably bite the two of them in the ass, but he really wanted to keep trying, and he felt like he was becoming a better person with Peter beside him, and Peter actually had this strange feeling in his chest that made him want to hold Wade's hand?  
  

  3. After oscillating between a minor gay panic and mulling over what a relationship with Deadpool would even _look_ like, he decided to tentatively see if Wade would want to hang out as, you know, friends, and Wade had promptly dubbed it a date, something Peter didn't object to like he usually did, and they agreed to meet up - well. Tonight.



Which they may have, until a terrorist cell ended up playing the two of them to get some information from one of Peter's college professors and Deadpool had believed the bad guys over him and actually gave them the info they needed, leaving Peter tied up in a random warehouse until Daredevil had come by to get him out - he had no idea what super tech those restraints were made of, but he knew he couldn't go back to Hell's Kitchen for at least another week lest he risk the vigilante saying some self esteem ruining one liner to his face.

So now here he was, staring at what had been a source of fond memories from when he was younger, mentally bemoaning his stupid, dumb, idiot tendency to want love and affection from other people when it seemed like so many other supers were completely fine brooding around alone and didn’t need or even seek out that sort of thing like Peter’s subconscious seemed to so ardently do.

“Hey,” Peter bristled at the voice behind him.

“I don’t want to see you.”

“Well your back is to me, technically…” Peter whirled around, facing Deadpool, of course.

“What do you want to do, fawn your ability to manipulate me in my face, or just fight again?” H was sore from pulling at the restraints, and getting jumped by a bunch of goons earlier, but maybe fighting Deadpool would make him feel better. 

“Okay, here’s a thought - another F-word - not the one you’re thinking, actually.” He held a brown bag aloft, “Food!”

“Are you literally trying to ask me to hang out with you after you betrayed our trust and everything we’ve been doing together for the last  _ eight  _ months?”

“Oh, what, with that mercenary group?”

“No, the fact that you don’t recycle properly -  _ yes, Deadpool! That! _ ”

“Don’t worry about that, Webs!” He tossed a small box at him, and Peter grappled with it for a moment. “Double crossed ‘em. All the info is right there.” 

Still glaring, Peter opened the box, took the micro memory chip out, and dug through his pouch for his cell phone. He plugged it in, and after a few moments, he realized that the files that were uploading to his phone’s file space were, in fact, the pieces of research that belonged to the professor they had been trying to help. He emailed it to himself just in case it was another trick from yours truly, before finally dropping his defensive stance.

“Alright! We’re cool, right? Let’s eat!” Deadpool sat down and began unpacking the large order of - something that smelled pretty good, actually. Unfortunately for Wade, Peter was probably more petty than he was romantic.

“Why didn’t you just  _ tell  _ me, Wade? I don’t know if you even remember what we were talking about the other day, but -”

“I remember,” the man said, more solemn. “Trust is important, especially for someone like me. I meant it - I just didn’t put two and two together until we were already fighting those guys, but…”

Peter crossed his arms, “But?”

“...They had links to some old Weapon X projects, okay?”

“The people that -”

Wade tugged his mask partway up and gestured at the scarring on his face. “Did this to yours truly? Yeah. They’d always been hard to track down, so when I saw an opportunity to get close to them…” 

“You didn’t have time to tell me,” Peter said. “I guess that makes some sense,” he said, still not exactly happy about being left in a warehouse.

“Yeah, I only had time to drop a few teeny tiny cherry bombs that would have alerted our other red friend to the fact that something was going on with the warehouse. You weren’t tied up long, were you?”

“Only long enough to bruise my ego, I guess,” he said. Daredevil  _ had  _ said that he came by because of some noise… He carefully edged closer to Deadpool, sniffing at the food again. “Chinese?”

“Thai.”

“Ooh. Spicy?”

“You bet.” He held up a carton and some chopsticks. “These are almost as good as the stuff they make in Bangkok - which, by the way, possibly the best name for a city ever created.” Peter rolled his eyes, took the container, and sat down next to Wade. 

“You’ve been to Thailand?” he asked instead, scooping some noodles artlessly into his mouth.

“Baby boy, I’ve been everywhere,” Wade stretched his arm out as though to demonstrate he’d been up into the very stars of space - which, maybe he had. For now, he was content to regale Peter with a couple of antihero adventures that were a little too funny to be completely disapproving of. 

Peter didn’t call it a date, not out loud, but by the time they bid goodnight and Peter swung away, Wade watching him as he went? 

Well, he  _ was  _ a bit of a romantic, wasn’t he? 


	2. It's the PTSD, for me

So, here was the thing: Peter had only begun to admit to himself that he may have had a bit of a tiny, miniscule, blink-and-you’ll-miss it crush on Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, aka a mercenary that was technically reformed, but definitely one that would get a few side eyes if he brought his name up around any other superhero in a way that was fully positive.

Peter’s highly suspect taste in romantic partners aside (which isn’t exactly a new development, considering he still falls for the Black Cat’s ploys to help her commit morally dubious acts before she betrays him on a biannual basis) working with Deadpool and having a fondness for the man does lend itself to some very… unique situations.

They’re fighting some group of aliens - Peter’s not really sure. The Avengers had already started in by the time he swung up on the scene, and then Deadpool and a band of mutants had shown up, and the Fantastic Four… it was a lot for a Tuesday night, alright?

The point was, he and Deadpool found themselves in Union Square park - the fountain feature had gotten completely destroyed when Peter had gotten thrown into it, but that led to the discovery that regular H2O (albeit tainted by its prolonged exposure to the Manhattan public) was like a corrosive acid against the exposed skin of this alien race.

“ _ Wizard of Oz  _ did it first, but I’ll take what I can get,” Peter said, flicking some water at one of the aliens he had been fighting and washing it flinch, hiss, and sprint back to the hover scooter things they had been using to spread across the city.

“Yeah, that trick never made sense,” Wade said, who had found a few tossed to-go coffee cups and was dipping them in the water to splash on the aliens that were daring to get close. “Does that mean she never washed her  _ hands?  _ Because that’s gross.” 

“I thought she was just faking it - you know, like in  _ Wicked. _ ”

“That’s a canon-compliant fanfic, Spidey, totally different. Hey!” He pointed further down the tree-lined path. “One of them left their ride.” 

Since Peter hadn’t gotten to go to the pre-mission debrief where all the supers suited up and grabbed some state-of-the-art super weapon made by Tony Stark or SHIELD or something, he also hadn’t gotten a communicator. He kept promising himself he'd find a way to hack into their frequency, or at least get one of their phone numbers, but it just kept slipping his mind. “Come on.” He grabbed Wade’s hand and got onto the alien… scooter? “If the others didn’t break a hydrant directly on those guys, they’re probably just as stuck as we were five minutes ago.” 

“I’m all up for a magic carpet ride if you are,” Wade said, putting his hands at Peter’s hips despite absolutely not needing to do that - it really said something about Peter’s ever growing fondness for the other man that he didn’t swat him away. “Do you know how to fly this thing?”

“Absolutely not.” After a moment of looking at the unfamiliar controls, he flicked an important looking switch and eased a lever up. The engine kicked on and they were slowly moving above the trees. “There, see? Can’t be too -” The scooter gave a sudden jerk and unleashed the full force of advanced alien hover transport technology (presumably), and sped forward at what felt like mach 3 “ _ HAAAAARD!”  _

“Hah, nice,” Wade said, despite going from a casual grip to a bruising hold around Peter’s middle. 

“Shut up and help me steer this thing!!”

“How am  _ I  _ supposed to help? You’re the science nerd!” Peter, at a loss of what was the actual steering wheel for this thing, lucked out by leaning to the right hard enough to miss the Flat Iron building and not fall off the thing as he tried to correct.

“And  _ you’ve  _ been to space! I don’t even had a license!”

“So what are you trying to say? All aliens are the same to you?” 

“ _Wade_!” The other man leaned over and his an innocuous button. They gradually began to slow down, though maintained their current height of approximately twelve stories above ground. Peter turned around, unable to place the withering glare he was sporting on Wade directly because of their closeness.

“Okay, maybe the scooter models are similar.”

“Honestly, you’re going to get yourself - or  _ me  _ \- killed the next time we team up, I swear.” 

“Hey, you’re saying that like we made it out of this hydro-phobic alien invasion alive.” There was a pause. “Also, check your twelve.”

“Huh?” Peter whirled around to see a trio of those aliens hurtling towards them on their own scooters. 

Several things happened in quick succession: Peter leapt from their ride, webbing one of the approaching scooters and using it to swing out and hit another alien, dragging the first scooter off balance and causing the first alien to fall - tumbling onto the concrete below. He let the momentum carry him to the edge of a building where Wade and the third alien were locked in their own fight. Wade had managed to kick the other alien off the transport and nabbed that scooter for himself, and was puzzling over the piloting abilities of it when another two aliens came out from around a corner, each holding what looked like an electrified wire between them. Their aim of trying to lethally clothesline Wade was abundantly clear, and Peter quickly leapt to a closer vantage point, shooting a web out to the other. “Wade! Jump!” 

Wade jumped from the speeding craft, and Peter’s web connected mid-freefall along Wade’s calf.

There was a sickeningly familiar sound that emanated from Wade once the webbing pulled taut - one he had nightmares about for the last eight years. “Wade?” he ventured, pulling the web up while slowly maneuvering down the face of the building, trying to get closer. Wade didn’t say anything. “Wade, if you’re being quiet for some reason, I swear -” despite himself, he could feel his throat closing up, chest tightening.

The crackling of electricity sounded and Peter threw two projectiles of non conductive webbing at the heads of the aliens. They fell backwards, the wire they had been holding falling on them and buzzing horrendously before cutting out. Peter didn’t turn to look, focused on getting Wade laid gently on the ground and following him. 

This was a mistake he had made before - he was too cocky, not experienced enough, not -  _ careful.  _

He had been Spider-man since he was sixteen. He’d been doing this for nearly a decade now. He had stopped supervillains and global conspiracies and teamed up with world-renown supers and he knew  _ better  _ than this, damnit!

Getting closer, he could see Wade’s neck pulled at an unnatural angle. He pushed his mask up and felt below the collar of his suit for a pulse that he couldn’t find. 

He’d been doing this for ten years and he was suddenly transported to that dark night on the bridge with Gwen. A scared kid in a glorified Halloween costume who had killed the love of his life because he wasn’t  _ careful.  _

“Oh God, what do I do.” He flipped his mask up - he couldn’t  _ breathe.  _ He told himself it was fine. He had seen Wade get entire limbs hacked off and he was  _ fine.  _ The man could walk away from anything, that was his entire power. 

But somehow, in all the missions they went on, he had seen Wade get gravely injured, but he hadn’t actually  _ died  _ when he was with him. Maybe he passed out from blood loss, but that the extent of it, and usually he was up again in ten minutes. He had never seen him actually… die. And never from something that was so eerily similar to that night. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking. He moved his hands up from Wade’s neck and put it against the man’s cheek. “Just - wake up. Wake up, Wade.” Did it  _ always  _ take him this long to come back? 

Just when Peter thought he was going to hurtle into a full-on mental breakdown, Wade’s neck snapped back into place and he sat up, cracking it and rolling his shoulder. “Jeez, Spidey, I think your aim is slipping.” He turned and saw Spider-man, sans mask, on the verge of tears. “...Was I out long?” he asked. 

Peter shook his head and tugged his mask back on. “Let’s go.” 

“But -”

This time Peter grabbed Wade, holding onto him tighter than necessary as they swung the rest of the way up towards midtown where the Avengers were last congregated. He  _ didn’t  _ drop Deadpool, and they quickly flagged down Black Widow to demonstrate the weakness they had discovered. She spread it to the rest of the teams that were tapped into the most legendary group chat of all time, and the remaining aliens were corralled back towards the ship they had originated from, survivors clamoring inside and vanishing to a distant corner of space. Peter helped, obviously, but he couldn’t bring himself to crack any more jokes. He kept an eye on Wade, just making sure the man was still moving like normal. 

Obviously he was. It was silly to think he wouldn’t be completely, one-hundred percent okay. Actually, Peter keeping an eye on him meant that he didn’t even get another blow planted on him for the rest of the fight. Peter was able to cut off any approaching alien before they had the chance. 

The third time he webbed up an approaching assailant and tossed them in the direction of one of Central Park’s pond’s before Wade could do the honors of shooting them with a super soaker he had somehow found from a street kiosk, he actually pouted at Spider-man. “Aw, come on, no fair!” 

“Sorry,” Peter said lamely. He kept doing it though, until the stragglers were taken care of and the cleanup crews started to come. 

He began the long walk out of the park when Wade came up from behind him. “So, obviously I’m the walking picture of mental health,” Wade began, “but uh, mind telling me what  _ that  _ was all about? You get amnesia or something?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were crying. Forget the regeneration schtick?”

“I was  _ not  _ crying.”

“Your eyes were wet. We were about 80% there. And, by the way, this situation?” He gestured to his face, “even better than I could’ve imagined, and believe me, I imagined a  _ lot. _ ” 

“It’s not important. Doesn’t matter.” 

Wade was quiet for a moment, then he spoke again, voice uncharacteristically _soft_ sounding. “...It seemed like it mattered.” 

“ _Forget_ _it_ , Deadpool.” And despite nearly crying over Wade’s (temporarily) dead body, and going out of his way for the rest of the fight to make sure that the other man didn’t have so much as a scratch on him, Peter shot out a web and got the hell out of there, because obviously his inner thoughts always made perfect sense. 

-

He saw Wade again a week later - not enough time, to be honest - he was still in an awful mood, but the narcotic pushers he had encountered tonight were tougher than they looked, and he wasn’t about to look some gift help in the mouth. The pair of them kicked ass together, as per usual, and left them tied up in front of the police station - also par for the course now that Wade gave up most of his more lethal approaches for crime fighting. They even got tacos after, like that whole… Thing hadn’t happened. 

“So,” Wade said, kicking his legs over the edge of a building they had selected, “about last week -”

Peter groaned. “Wade, don’t.”

“You were having a flashback or something, right?” He turned to look at him. “Like, what went down, with me, literally… reminded you of something else that was similar. Something really bad.” Peter blinked. “I mean if it was something else -”

“I guess it was like that.” Peter said carefully. He wasn’t going to say anything else though. He barely talked about Wade to other supers, the idea of meshing him with his civilian life was - hard to wrap his head around. 

Wade nodded. “I’ve been there. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

Peter laughed humorlessly. “You have no idea,” he said, then paused. “I mean, I guess you do. You just said it yourself.” Wade shrugged a shoulder. “I’m sorry. It really does suck.” Peter pulled a leg up to his chest. “Does it get… easier?”

“Eh, it depends on the thing you’re remembering… the thing that sets you back. It’s supposed to get better with time, exposure… I don’t know. I’m not really good about assuring someone else they’re not crazy when I’m -”

“You’re not crazy,” Peter cut him off.

“In  _ this  _ iteration,” he said pointedly. Peter rolled his eyes. “Well, if you ever want to… talk… about… you know. Mental health awareness, breaking down toxic masculinity, yadda yadda.”

Peter snorted. “Very astute, thank you.” He bit his lip. “But, uh, thanks, Wade. If I ever need to - I’ll let you know.” 

The exposed lower half of Wade’s face was set in a grin. “Yeah! We could make it a spa day, or something. Champagne, mud baths, cry into the little cucumber slices they put on your eyes, group therapy.”

“I don’t think they do group therapy and spa sessions in the same facility.”

“That’s too bad, it sounds like an enterprising business model.” And so they went, arguing about what did and did not constitute ‘self-care’, before moving on to the best depression snacks and comfort movies, before just switching back to regular movies, swapping film reviews and pop culture quips and everything else under the sun to occupy themselves as they kept an ear out for any trouble around this part of the city.

It was funny. Peter still felt rubbed raw and twisted up, morose about Gwen in a way he hadn’t felt in a while, and even though he and Wade didn’t bring up the heart of it… he felt better being with him. A unique situation to be in, accompanied with perhaps one of the most 'unique' people he had ever met. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I AM back... I wrote this in like one hour because I haven't written anything in so long because, you know. 2020 is hard. 
> 
> This was an idea I had floating around in my head for a while - the idea that Spider-man could accidentally kill Deadpool in the same way Gwen died (catching him with his web in a way that breaks his neck) and even if he logically knows Wade will live, he panics over it. This was lightly hinted at in my longer spideypool fic, but I decided to expand on it a bit for this fic. Enjoy! :)


End file.
